Quotes about Emotional Resonance

When music fails to agree to the ear, to soothe the ear and the heart and the senses, then it has missed its point.

Music acts like a magic key, to which the most tightly closed heart opens.

le parole hanno una vita propria, come la gente o gli animali. Possono palpitare, svanire o amplificarsi. Passare attraverso le parole è come camminare attraverso la folla. Rimangono delle facce, delle sagome che si dileguano presto dal nostro ricordo, oppure si fissano, non si sa bene perché.

Poetry is telling something to someone.

and he: (and this was almost unbearable) he saw me see him, and I saw him see me. He said something like, You're going to be ok now, or, It's been difficult hasn't it, but what he said mattered only a little. We met — in our mutual gaze — in between a third place I'd not yet been.

Music is the strongest form of magic.

Her fear was infectious, and though I was too young to truly know terror, I felt it in my heart and trembled.

The human body is the best picture of the human soul.

There's sure no passion in the human soul, But finds its food in music.

Music bypasses the conceptual mind. Music does not give you food for thought.

In your eyes, I see what's on my mind.

A friend is like a poem.

The relationship you have with yourself (consciously or unconsciously) sets the tone for every other relationship in your life.

The happiness we discover and gradually develop internally is seeded by the realization of certain fundamental truths...It seems we are all here to realize these truths, in our own way, in our own time. And once they resonate fully, not just intellectually, but emotionally and spiritually, we are then able to find the happiness and peace we seek...

We read to know we are not alone.

To control the breathing is to control the mind. With different patterns of breathing, you can fall in love, you can hate someone, you can feel the whole spectrum of feelings by changing your breathing.

Por qué las palmas de mi mano tienen una memoria más fiel que mi memoria?

Y cuando hacíamos el amor, parecia que cada duro hueso mío se correspondía con un blando hueco de ella, que cada impulso mío se hallaba matemáticamente con su eco receptor

When it comes to Clare, sometimes, the past isn't past. The past can get as present as any present ever was, so near that I feel its breath.

I laughed. I cried. Sometimes, hours or days after I'd last seen Trillium, some tiny, jewel-colored piece of story would come winging toward me out of the blue, and I would laugh or cry again.

They may forget what you said, but they will never forget how you made them feel.

People may forget what you said or what you did, but they will always remember how you made them feel.

If it weren't for music, I would think that love is mortal.

If it weren't for music, I would think that love is mortal.